


Three 7 Twelve

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Series: Weirdo's Transformers Stories [14]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst, Angst is love angst is life, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Minor Violence, Protectiveness, Secret Relationship, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 17:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20532167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: So, I was just thinking, why has no one written about Nemesis Prime yet? Why not give him a conscious and feelings, make him be kind of his own person? Good or evil? I don't know. And why not give someone feelings for him.....?Summary: Nemesis Prime is alive without the help of his former captor Silas. Bumblebee is in a bad situation. What will their encounter bring for the future and will it be good or not?





	Three 7 Twelve

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't had a break from work in so long. These nine hour shifts are killing me, so here... Have this lunch break written story.

He knew that he was destined to do something, to abide some sort of rule and regulation, but yet his processor remained tainted. He could feel it. The memories sitting like a lost spaceship in the dark hole of space that was his neural net, practically in sight but not in any way reachable. It was frustrating. He wanted to know what his purpose was. Ever since he woke up in that smashed, man-made fortress, he had been confused and rather disturbed as he remembered only the blurry misfortunes he had unwillingly caused to those similar like him. He had tried searching for them, but with no such luck so far.

Nemesis Prime could barely remember the raw ache in his helm when he had very first ever awoken. His optics had onlined rather miraculously to the white, blinding lights that had been mercilessly hanging directly in front of him. Everything had hurt, his legs, his helm, his optics, his chest and even his voice. At first the only things he gargled out were broken, confused words that arranged themselves into practical nonsense. He was barely able to get a grip on what was going on, what those tiny, moving figures were, and what they were doing to him.

It was then when his pain receptors were thrown offline that he began to realize more and more of what was happening. His physical structure and mental capacity was taken over, leaving him with nothing but the sight of black and words of endless struggle. It was like something had complete control over his entire body including his voice, optics and movements. He could feel stuff like the strange, rough shoves against his armor and the way he transformed, driving, shooting things and walking. It was strange. He also remembered talking, though it wasn't himself that was talking, but rather someone like him. There had been other voices too, ones that he could barely understand the meaning of.

After he woke up in this broken structure, he had spent several hours debating and thinking about where he had come from and what he should do. It seemed obvious that those little crushed flesh things were the ones that had him under their control, so it would be best to stay away from them. He figured as he left the building and made way for the pavement strip lying endlessly on the dry, dusty miles of field before him. He remembered someone saying something about going under cover this way, but how?

Nemesis Prime had spent even more time thinking about what to do, his yellow optics stuck in a lost state of mind. It wasn't until he heard an engine approaching that he jerked his helm up and spotted some type of quick, small vehicle moving down vastly along the road. He quickly diverted his previous thoughts into one big debate, hiding himself behind a circular building until the strange vehicle passed. When it did, he noticed that one of those tiny fleshings were inside, appearing to be controlling the vehicle from the inside.

Is that what he was made for? To be controlled and driven around like a clone or pet? Had his side transformation been a mistake all along? Is that why they did that to him?

Nemesis Prime remembered the other life forces he had encountered, although not by sight, he could still feel their hard, metal punches like phantom pains against his cold armor. He could still hear their robotic voices, their questioning minds and demands. It was odd, but it also meant that there were others like him. He wasn't a mistake. He had purpose.

After finding out how to transform, Nemesis Prime followed the pavement strip, moving casually from one side of the yellow line to the other, only moving whenever a loud honk and flashing headlights blinked numerous times in front of him. It would take him a while to adapt to these human customs, but at this point, he was willing to do whatever it took to find out where he truly belonged.

* * *

Bumblebee had been in more near death situations than he could ever count. It was something every bot got used to sooner or later. The times he's survived no longer felt like the glorious, prideful show and tell that he could spout off to friends. He just felt lucky to still be here.

That said... Not all of those encounters involved the very leader of the decepticons himself.

Lord Megatron stood before him, his cannon pointed down at his face after the brawl they had entangled themselves in just moments before ended with him on top. "You hold true potential for being a scout," Megatron sounded as if being here was a waste of time as he fired up his cannon, "It would serve Optimus Prime well knowing that you offlined simply because you could not accept your own failure."

Bumblebee beeped out a groan and turned his helm over on the dusty grounds of the canyon they were in. There had been rumors of stray energon trackings being spotted here, so Ratchet had sent him to investigate. Too bad he hadn't warned him that along the way, he would have to pay a visit to the much avoided decepticon Megatron.

Bumblebee had been able to surface the energon, but the thought of bringing it home or even calling Ratchet was destroyed when Megatron’s cruel laughter had beaten him to his chances. Bumblebee had fought with him, gun to gun, word to word, and fist to fist.

Unfortunately, it ended up with Megatron on top. Bumblebee's helm was splitting inside. He trembled, servos bracing out on the dry, brittle sand and digging into it as he forced his optics online. Megatron held his cannon straight in front of his helm, direct with the area that would cause the most damage to his memory and neural net.

He beeped. Megatron laughed, drawing his other fist back as he got ready to fire, "See you in the well, scout!"

Bumblebee's optics widened and spun in nothing but petrifying anticipation. He had lifted his weak servo up to possibly shield himself, but knew it would do little to serve himself of belittling the damage that was sure to happen once that shot did. He expected it to be fast like it had been before, but just as he imagined the well of the allspark commencing right before him, he never got to actually see it.

For Megatron was soon sent flying across the canyon floor by a force stronger than the average punch of a predacon.

Bumblebee beeped in startlement, his servo flying back to the ground to help himself sit up. He trembled harshly, still in bad shape from his previous beating. As he thought he might see Arcee, Bulkhead or even Starscream, he was shocked to see a badly familiar figure standing tall and wicked before him.

Nemesis Prime.

Bumblebee knew it was him for his Optimus was scouting the secondary energon signal with Smokescreen in the southern boarder. Besides... Who could ever forget that dark, scratched, rickedy body, especially in broad daylight?

"What?!" Megatron yelled in ferocity, tearing himself away from the ground and standing to face his new rival, his optics going wide in both bewilderment and confusion, "Optimus Prime...?"

"Leave this place and do not return," The mech that looked like Optimus Prime spoke, his voice lower and less professional than the original himself.

It made Megatron squint his optics, his cannon low at his side as he stared at the dark, unkempt machine before him. "And what place do you speak of, Prime? This disastrous canyon, the country, or earth itself?" He sneered, testing the strange machine.

Nemesis Prime had veered only his helm in startlement of the question. What was canyon, country and earth? He wondered, unsure of how to answer. He glared though, remembering what he had witnessed happening to the yellow bot before he was able to help. "All of them," he answered, balling his fist close to his sides.

Megatron wondered what was going on with Optimus for him to be acting out in such manners both mentally and visually. "I'm afraid I cannot allow myself the department, Prime," he switched out his sword and scowled, "But for you I just might be able to."

Nemesis Prime activated his own sword and leaned his helm forward. Megatron released a dramatic roar as he charged towards the other mech. The prime kept his servos down by his sides, almost like he were submitting himself to most certain death. Megatron jumped, reaching up swiftly with his sword- a bad move he soon learned as the dark mech's servo swung back, and then forward, jabbing the sword into his tank. The immediate pain stole him of his ventilations and the ability to properly duel back.

Megatron sputtered out air, but was able to lean back and kick the prime in the side, sending him flying backwards. Unlike Megatron, Nemesis Prime caught himself on his wobbling legs, looking back up at his rival with his cold, yellow optics. He scowled with his eyes, sword changing back into a fist before he ran towards the silver mech.

Megatron couldn’t have transformed in time, what with his viciously wounded tank and the vastly approaching prime. Energon poured down his waist. He growled in roaring anger, aiming his cannon but not having near enough time to shoot.

Nemesis Prime punched Megatron on the side of the helm before repeating the raw force on the other side, receding for a moment and then kicking him straight in the area of his open wound, hard. Megatron was sent crashing into the ground, wounds turned vital now as his processor spun.

This-this wasn't anything like the Optimus Prime he knew. There was too much power, too much force and aggression. Megatron turned on his front and transformed as fast as he could before the monster of a machine came back and literally destroyed him. It took effort, but he was soon able to blast through the clouds.

Nemesis Prime watched the silver thing fly away, wishing that he had been able to do more than what time he was given to do. At least he was able to save the yellow bot before the silver mech killed him. He realized proudly, turning around and seeing the yellow bot struggling to crawl away.

A frown formed behind Nemesis Prime's mouth guard as he slowly began to approach the small, wounded bot. "Bumblebee..." He remembered from previous encounters, "Are you alright?"

Bumblebee simply released a beep of pain and fear, seeing as how he was too wounded to transform and his communicator had been smashed by Megatron. He trembled, still fearing the death that was most certainly now behind him. He stopped trying to crawl. Crawling was useless. He was losing energon and had no energy to run on. He looked back, accepting that he had no where to turn.

The man made monstrosity seemed tranquil and serene, aside from his ragged engine and unstable formation. It approached Bee calmly, looking down at him with optics of simple recognition. Bumblebee beeped, trying to turn onto his back but yet the motion seemed impossible as he froze up in fear.

Large, dark peds landed meters before his helm, and the loudest, most terrible creaking sound of metal screeched out through the canyon happened when the bigger mech knelt down. Bumblebee's optics spun like a microscope as he looked up at the giant, evil version of his own leader.

"I..." Nemesis Prime spoke like he was unsure of himself, "I beat down the bad guy... Is that what we are supposed to do?"

Bumblebee's optics then stopped, widening only to express his inner confusion and mind blowing susprise. Why would Silas be asking something like that? He shuffled a little, knowing that the human wouldn't be able to understand his Cybertronian code.

"I do not understand why climate is important right now... I do not know what climate is," Nemesis Prime answered.

Bumblebee's optics lit up. It wasn't Silas! Silas would not have been able to figure out his Cybertronian code, but... what if he had found a way to steal some of his voice recordings? What if he cracked another code like he had done with Optimus and Breakdown? Bumblebee beeped in aggression, talking about how Silas couldn't fool him and that the real Optimus would be here at any moment to rescue him.

"I do not know what you are talking about," Nemesis Prime admitted in complete confusion, his shoulders sagging, "I saved you. Isn't that what I was supposed to do?"

Bumblebee pasusd his rant. What? Why was that the only thing he was interested in? Bee wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. He had no idea if it was Silas or actually... a living, feeling, man made robot standing in front of him. He tried to remember what all happened after the incident with the mad human and Nemesis Prime, but could only think about the fallen, offline version of his leader in that warehouse. There was no way Silas could have survived that crash, and even if he did, what use would his body have been for this... thing?

Hesitant and unsure, Bumblebee nodded his helm. He didn't know what to do even if the crazed version of his leader actually decided to choose the path of good. He looked up, noticing a brightness in those optics, a misunderstood, common focus like he had been waiting on the right opportunity to receive such a answer for eons. It was unlike the expressions Optimus hardly showed, and he wondered if the man made robot could smile beneath that rickety mask.

"I would like to apologize for any harm I may have done before... I had not been myself, and have yet to understand why," Nemesis Prime spoke in that same slow, sloppy way, almost like a less educated version of Optimus.

Bumblebee's optics spun wide as he tried pointing offensively at the corrupted mockery of his leader, but ended up beeping in pain. He was going to tell him how he felt, how he had done more than just harm to his team, that he was a corrosive human experiment made to kill them all. But his speech was held back by the pain, and by the time he came to, his was jerking back in surprise at the large, dark figure that was even closer to him now than ever before.

"You're hurt," Nemesis Prime stated.

Bumblebee beeped. Yeah, he didn't notice. He tried to scoot away, but froze when a large servo came out and splayed across his chest where a nasty slice in his armor made itself known quite persistently. He beeped, one servo coming up to try and shove the unwanted intrusion away, but to none avail. That servo pressed down on him, not enough to hurt but enough to trace the broken, pierced armor that had been spliced open by Megatron’s wicked sword. He chirped, holding onto the man made mech's wrist as he carefully applied subtle pressure to the wound.

"How do I fix this?" Nemesis Prime asked, looking from the wound to Bumblebee. His servo roamed downward, still with that gentle pressure, skimming across the bot's curvy waist right above his hips.

Bumblebee's optics widened at the feelings that arose from the unexpected touch. He first beeped in surprise but then in aggression, pushing on the man made machine's wrist in order of getting him to stop whatever it was that he was doing. In the back of his mind, deep within the thoughts, imagings and fantasies that never should be thought of were triggered, and he was growing vaguely warm.

Ever since he had been rescued all those years back by Optimus, Bumblebee had always admired the prime, maybe more than he should. Always he would used to think about him, sometimes even in inappropriate ways, but he just couldn't help himself. Optimus was strong, wise, caring and compassionate. He was everything and more. And Bumblebee really wanted to tell him how he felt, he really did, but he never wanted to take the risk of being shot down and ruining a perfectly good friendship. So he hid his feelings, expertly, keeping them at bay for the sake of their friendship. It became easy after while, but now....

With how this mock version of Optimus was unknowingly touching him, sending shudders racing all throughout his body, Bumblebee found his chest of hidden emotions bashed open. He might as well not of had any injuries because it sure didn't feel like there were any there.

Bumblebee looked up at the man made machine in panic and beeped, asking Nemesis Prime why he was doing this.

Thankfully, the mech moved his servo away, his yellow optics gazing down at Bumblebee like he were a confusing lullaby. "Because I thought it was the right thing to do... Is it not?" he asked, voice going alertingly ragged at the end.

Bumblebee nodded but only to save himself from having to fight this giant monstrosity all by himself. He sat up, finally, his body shaking as he clutched his chest and explained how helping was the right thing to do, but it would take an actual medic to fix the wounds he had. Thanks though.

"Very well," Nemesis Prime's voice had softened, but still stayed quite firm as he lifted his arms out, "Where is this Ratchet? I will take you to him."

Bumblebee really panicked. No, that wasn't necessary! He ended up squeaking when he was picked up easily as if he weighed nothing, hoisted against the mech's rusty chest. On instinct, he wrapped one servo around his neck and used the other to clutch his shoulder so that he wouldn't fall. He had beeped up a storm saying about how this was all wrong, he didn't need to be carried, it was a long ways from the base, and that they probably shouldn't be seen together.

Whenever he had calmed down, Bee noticed that Nemesis Prime's body was shaking, but not like any type of shaking Bumblebee knew. It was almost as if he were vibrating. Bumblebee's cheeks lit up... Is this what Optimus felt like when he was close?

Wait... What?

Bumblebee cursed himself and struggled, mostly to shut up his daydreaming mind and fantasizing thoughts. The real Optimus wouldn't appreciate such behavior if he were ever to openly express it. But... This wasn't the real Optimus. It was the mimicking version of him. His Optimus never paid any heed to his silent approaches, never looked in his direction like Bumblebee did him, never heated up when they were close together or alone. Bee tried to brush it off as a Prime's nature not to develop feelings for anyone, but he could never beat the denial within himself, nor the self conflicted disappointment.

Looking up at the bigger mech that mocked his leader, Bumblebee grew an idea. A horrible, selfish, terrible idea, but it was good. If anyone he knew were to find out that Nemesis Prime was still alive, they'd surely try to capture and offline him, no reasoning aloud.

Bumblebee beeped. Nemesis Prime looked down at him in silence, his yellow optics squinted in focus. Bumblebee explained his plan; first, Nemesis Prime needed to put him down and drive as far away as possible. A ground bridge would open and his friends would help him. Once he was all fixed up, Bumblebee would come back and see him and then they could try and figure all this stuff out together.

As a team.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what type of credit this story will get, if any at all, but if you'd like me to continue, just give the word :)


End file.
